unintelligible dan repost
After the Storm: Part III
I stayed in the garden
long after my mother went inside.
The air felt heavy,
like it knew the weight I carried,
the truth I buried
In the rosemary she planted.
She was my swan.
Pretty and innocent-
or so I thought.
She moved through life
with an elegance I didn’t question,
a beauty I was too blind to doubt.
And me?
I was the fool who taught the swan
how to cheat.
I gave her trust,
love,
freedom.
And she took it all,
used it to hide her lies
In a veil,
I never saw through it—
not until it was too late.
It was a letter.
Not meant for me.
Folded neatly,
tucked between the pages
of her favorite book.
His name was there.
His words were there.
Words I had never written.
Words I could never take back.
I remember confronting her,
the way her face changed—
how quickly grace turned to guilt,
how silence gave her away
before she even spoke.
I was the storm then.
I raged,
I begged,
I broke.
But she didn’t deny it.
Not once.
That night,
the clouds hid the stars.
The sky watched
as I held her trembling hands
and asked her why.
She didn’t cry.
She only said,
“I was lonely.”
The world shattered.
A thousand pieces of us
fell to the floor.
I didn’t know who I was anymore.
And she?
She wasn’t the swan I loved—
she was something else,
something I couldn’t bear to see.
In the end,
I don’t know what came over me.
I don’t remember the moment
my hands moved to her throat,
the moment her gasps
turned to silence.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t hate.
It was loss,
A serene loss.
Her body crumpled to the ground,
fragile as the petals
she used to press between books.
And I stood there,
the storm inside me
finally quiet.
Now, every step I take
is soaked in her absence.
Every breath I draw
is heavy with regret.
I come to the garden
to search for forgiveness
in the soil she loved,
but there’s none to be found.
She was my swan,
and I killed her.
The rain has stopped,
but the storm never left me.
I stayed in the garden
long after my mother went inside.
The air felt heavy,
like it knew the weight I carried,
the truth I buried
In the rosemary she planted.
She was my swan.
Pretty and innocent-
or so I thought.
She moved through life
with an elegance I didn’t question,
a beauty I was too blind to doubt.
And me?
I was the fool who taught the swan
how to cheat.
I gave her trust,
love,
freedom.
And she took it all,
used it to hide her lies
In a veil,
I never saw through it—
not until it was too late.
It was a letter.
Not meant for me.
Folded neatly,
tucked between the pages
of her favorite book.
His name was there.
His words were there.
Words I had never written.
Words I could never take back.
I remember confronting her,
the way her face changed—
how quickly grace turned to guilt,
how silence gave her away
before she even spoke.
I was the storm then.
I raged,
I begged,
I broke.
But she didn’t deny it.
Not once.
That night,
the clouds hid the stars.
The sky watched
as I held her trembling hands
and asked her why.
She didn’t cry.
She only said,
“I was lonely.”
The world shattered.
A thousand pieces of us
fell to the floor.
I didn’t know who I was anymore.
And she?
She wasn’t the swan I loved—
she was something else,
something I couldn’t bear to see.
In the end,
I don’t know what came over me.
I don’t remember the moment
my hands moved to her throat,
the moment her gasps
turned to silence.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t hate.
It was loss,
A serene loss.
Her body crumpled to the ground,
fragile as the petals
she used to press between books.
And I stood there,
the storm inside me
finally quiet.
Now, every step I take
is soaked in her absence.
Every breath I draw
is heavy with regret.
I come to the garden
to search for forgiveness
in the soil she loved,
but there’s none to be found.
She was my swan,
and I killed her.
The rain has stopped,
but the storm never left me.